“You ready?” he asks, helping me out of the truck.
“Yes!” I squeal with a smile.
He takes my hand and leads me forward. I walk with him, hoping I don’t trip and fall on my face. Evan’s a closet romantic, which is another thing I love about him. He pretends not to make a big deal out of special occasions, but deep inside, he plans for weeks.
“Are you ready to see our house?” He holds me to his chest and whispers in my ear.
“What? I thought it wasn’t going to be ready for another month?” Construction got behind due to the weather a few weeks ago and put the schedule back.
“No, that was just a little white lie so I could surprise you.” I feel his lips curl up into a devilish smile. He pulls the blindfold off, and that’s when I realize we’re standing on the front steps of our house—comple
